


Stark's Circus Spectacular!

by Winters_mistress



Category: Marvel AU - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 18:34:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14920707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winters_mistress/pseuds/Winters_mistress
Summary: Tony Stark leads a troupe of show-stopping performers in a traveling circus circa 1870.  Relationships are tested and jealousy rages when one late  night rehearsal goes longer than planned.





	Stark's Circus Spectacular!

Part One 

 

Philadelphia, May 1870 

 

All the lights under the tent went dark. As the audience sat in the blackness for a few minutes, the more restless ones began squirming in their seats. Eventually one light was relit. A small spotlight near the ceiling illuminated a petite redhead in a sequined corset tiptoeing across a tightrope. 

"Behold." A voice bellowed from the shadows. "A beautiful ballerina stranded so close to the sky." She teetered on her pointe shoes looking as if at any moment she would fall into the abyss below her. "She would call for help but alas, she is only a little Russian doll and no one here can understand her cry." The precariously perched young lady pleaded in her native tongue but no one came to her aid. She continued to inch across nervously, now in the very middle of the arena. 

"Oh no..." The narrator's voice could be heard again. "Now she is stuck. Too scared to go further but unable to turn around and go back. Again, I ask of you, will no one come to her rescue?" 

"I'll save the girl!" A confident baritone echoed around the circus tent. The owner of said voice was now illuminated with his very own light, shown atop one of the poles high above the ground and holding on to a trapeze with one hand. He was the quintessential picture of American bravery- blonde hair, blue eyes, and a radiant smile. He told the girl to jump as he leapt off the podium and swung towards her. One arm still holding the trapeze, his free arm deftly caught the ballerina and they swooped to safety on the opposite platform. 

"Who are you?" She says breathlessly, her accent heavily exaggerated. 

"I am known as Captain America!" He trumpeted and the crowd would always applaud. 

For a few dazzling minutes they performed an exhilarating, romantic tale swinging high above the rows and rows of the enraptured audience. Gasps of enjoyment filled the room along with boos whenever the villain, known as The Falcon, would appear. 

The Falcon was equipped with large, mechanical wings (and a very strong stunt wire) which he would use to soar above the crowd, kidnapping the hero's love and thwarting their attempts to embrace and achieve their first kiss. For the final, nail-biting scene, the heroes appeared finally triumphant. Captain America had succeeded in pushing the Falcon off the dais and surely to his demise but is then faced with the unenviable choice of saving himself or helping the pretty ballerina to safety. She holds on to the ledge for dear life with one hand but her other tries to hold onto him. She cannot hold his weight for much longer. As her grip on the edge of the platform threatens to give out, he tells her, "I love you." and lets go of her dainty fingers. As the hero falls and all appears lost, The Falcon and his wings appear out of the darkness and catch the noble lover and carry him to the platform opposite of the girl. He is saved but injured by his fall. The ballerina is forced to walk the tight rope that had once paralyzed her with fear in order to once again be in the arms of her love. It was a breathtaking, crowd-pleasing ending and one that almost always resulted in a standing ovation. Tonight was no different and as the three performers headed backstage the ringmaster complimented them all. 

"Great show tonight guys. Steve, you always know how to deliver." 

"Thanks Tony. A little slip up during the final catch but the audience seemed to enjoy the mild scare." 

"Indeed. People really pay attention when they think someone is about to die." 

"Anything for a thrill, right?" 

"Always my motto." 

Steve smirked at the ringmaster and headed to his trailer to change. He opened the door and started peeling off his costume. 

"You know I never get used to that, right?" A low voice muttered behind him. Steve glanced over his shoulder and gave the man who was reclining on his threadbare couch a quizzical look. "You- five stories above the audience. Throwing yourself from one tiny metal bar to another one. Dangling by your arms or legs. The entire ten minutes you're performing I don't breathe." 

Steve smirked. "Buck- if that was true you would pass out every night. And unlike me, you don't have Sam to catch you." 

Bucky sauntered over to the other man. "All I'm saying is every night I wonder- is this the night? Is this the time he falls? Is this the time the net isn't hooked up right? Is this the night my beloved falls from the sky like a wounded dove?" 

Steve placed his hands on either side of Bucky's head and gave him a tender kiss on his lips. "It's not going to happen. We practice this routine a million times a day." 

Bucky gave him a reluctant smile. "Okay. Who am I to argue with 'Captain America'?" He teased him with his stage name. 

Steve smiled back and gave him another quick kiss. "Can you give me a minute? I have to wash this body paint off my shoulders." 

Bucky raised his eyebrows. "I can help you with that, you know." 

Steve laughed softly and shook his head. "Too distracting. Tony wants another meeting before we leave tonight." 

Bucky frowned but backed away. "Alright then. I'll see you outside." Steve had walked over to the pedestal sink and dipped the sponge in the water Bucky had warmed for him. "Hey Steve." Bucky was hovering in the doorway. 

"Yeah Buck?" 

"I don't have to worry about you and Natasha right?" 

Steve appeared confused. "What are you talking about?" 

Bucky shrugged. "I don't know. It's just sometimes the way you two look at each other." 

"Bucky, it's just acting. Part of the show. You should know there's nothing going on between me and Nat." 

"Yeah, it's just... something seemed different tonight. The kiss at the end..." His voice trailed off. 

"I think we were both just really relieved I was able to catch her on that last flip." 

"Sure." Bucky didn't seem altogether convinced but he dropped it and headed outside. 

****************** 

Steve walked over to where the rest of the circus was gathered next to the train cars. Some chatting, some drinking, some like Bucky were rehearsing. 

Bucky was part of a dueling act with Clint Barton, who went by 'Hawkeye'. They took turns trying to hit increasingly difficult targets; Hawkeye with arrows, Bucky by throwing knives. Tonight, they were just working on their aim with an unlucky tree by the tracks. 

"I like it." Said Tony who was watching them with his arms folded. "But I think we have to go bigger for our next show. It's our round of performances and it's in New York City. We have to up the ante." 

"What did you have in mind, boss?" Clint asked, absentmindedly twirling an arrow through his fingers. 

"The girl." Tony nodded to him. "The one brings out the targets and fruit and stuff, what's her name?" 

"Wanda." 

"Yeah, Wanda. Why don't you have her stand in front of one of the targets? Hold an apple or something? People love the imminent danger, death-defying stuff." Clint appeared apprehensive. "It shouldn't be a problem, right? You told me yourself you never miss." 

"Yeah." Clint sighed deeply. "Hey Wanda." He called out to the young girl that was sipping a drink and giggling with the two strongmen. "Tony wants you to be more featured in the act." 

Her face lit up. "Like a better costume? I can have lines?" 

"No..." He took her hand and led her over to the tree, handing her one of the show placards. "Hold this over your head and whatever you do- don't move." 

She seemed confused at first then it dawned on her. "Clint?" Her voice was shaky. 

"It's okay. I always hit my target, right?" He aimed for the middle of the sign she held trembling above her head and clenched his jaw as she squeezed her eyes shut. "Just don't. Move." He whispered and drew back the string of his bow. Bucky noticed his hands were shaking. They never shook. Clint fired and the entire company inhaled sharply. 

There was a loud thwack as the arrow pierced the thick paper and was impaled forcefully on the trunk behind it. Wanda let out a loud breath and turned to see the arrow hit its target mere inches from her scalp. 

"That was great!" Tony grinned, clapping his hands together. "I really liked the way you made your hands shake like you were nervous. Very convincing. Added a lot of tension. Keep that in. People are really going to eat that up." 

Clint couldn't respond, he just nodded and made his way over to Wanda to see if she was ok. Steve was finally next to Bucky and he could see the frown on the other man's face. 

"He's not going to be happy until one of us dies onstage." 

Steve shrugged. "It's show business, you know? Keeps us all fed." 

The female member of the high wire act, Natasha Romanoff, sidled next to them. "In Russia we do not worry about these things so much. Me and all the other girls traumatized our bodies for ballet. A glorious performance is all that matters." 

"This isn't Russia." Bucky grunted. 

"No, but people aren't paying to watch average people doing average things. We must be gods and heroes up there. Sometimes that means sacrificing ourselves." She turned and walked away. 

"Your partner is a little intense." Bucky sneered. 

"Yeah... but she's great at what we do." 

"All aboard everyone!" Tony shouted. "If we leave now we can make it to New York by midnight." 

 

The performers sat in the lounge car as it rumbled north. Some sipped whiskey, some chatted softly with each other, some napped, and some flirted shamelessly. Bucky looked on amused as the outgoing, ebullient Sam Wilson was doing his best to charm a smile out of the typically reserved and stoic T'Challa, the company’s big cat trainer. 

"I have to hand it to him." Steve smiled. "That guy barely even talks to anyone other than his panther and cheetah and Sam's got him cracking up over some jokes." 

"Ten bucks says T'Challa doesn't even understand him. You just can't help but smile when Sam looks at you like that." 

"Oh, is that so?" Steve looked at Bucky pretending to be jealous. 

Bucky shrugged. "Sam's smile is like sunshine." He chuckled as Steve narrowed his eyes. "Ahh... stop." He combed his fingers through the other man's hair. "You know you never have to worry." 

The smallest smile crept over Steve's face. "Yeah... I know." He shifted his weight and leaned against Bucky, trying to get comfortable. "You know what I am worried about? Tomorrow's show. It's a big one." 

"No, it's not." Bucky said dismissively. 

"How can you say that? It's New York. Biggest city in the world. Final stop." 

"It's just another city." 

Steve looked up at him. "No, it isn't. It's our hometown. It's where we grew up together." 

Bucky huffed. "Well excuse me if I don't get all nostalgic for a place that was constantly kicking the shit out of you. That city you're so worked up about ate you alive. I hate going back there." 

"Buck, it's not like the old days. I'm not the scrawny kid you always had to protect back then." 

"You are to me." 

Steve looked into Bucky's stormy blue eyes and smiled. His fingers trailed down the other man's chest and landed softly on his knee. He detected a softening of his expression and leaned up to kiss him again. His hand slid up Bucky's thigh and reached for the waistband of his pants. Bucky's hand rested gently on his shoulder, encouraging him to go further when all of a sudden, the train lurched to a halt. 

"Damnit!" Steve turned to hear Sam yell out in frustration as everyone around them was startled awake and T'Challa sheepishly sat back in his own seat. Somewhere else in the car, the strongman that Tony called Thor cursed as his precious drink spilled onto his lap. 

"Finally!" Tony stood up and looked out the window. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived in the greatest city in the world!" 

Steve could hear Bucky harrumph and stifled his grin. "Babe." He said softly as they both stood up. "We can afford to get a hotel room tonight. We don't have to be crowded in our usual car." 

"Oh yeah?" The other man seemed keen on the idea. "I was kind of hoping we could see if our old dive was still open." 

"You really want to hang out in a grimy bar this late?" 

"Just for a couple of drinks. We can invite Sam and Clint and whoever they want. Might be nice to unwind for a spell before we turn in." 

"You think the Tipsy Turtle is still in business?" 

"If it's not I'm sure there are plenty of other places we could find trouble." 

"Who says we're looking for trouble?" 

"Steven." Their reverie was interrupted by a feminine, husky voice. "I am sorry to interrupt your plans but I was hoping we could rehearse a few more times. The blocking, choreography, the whole routine. I know we have changed it slightly and I don't think I quite have it. I think the slip up tonight has me concerned." 

"Now, Nat? It's so late. We were just going to grab a drink and get some rest." 

"Yes, I apologize but this is New York City. The harshest crowd. I want everything to be perfect. I am very nervous." 

Bucky watched Steve's shoulders slump and he knew what was coming. Stupid, chivalric Steve Rogers. Always putting everyone else first. And completely unable to say no to a lady in need. 

"Bucky, I-" 

"Yup. I figured. I'll just see you in the morning." He quickly turned and headed for the lights and the smell of the city. His pace quickened as his anger grew until he was almost running. His frustration almost caused him to run into Sam. 

"Hey man..." Sam put his hands out to stop the other man's chest from colliding with his own. "Where's the fire?" 

Bucky turned to him with a furrowed brow. "I can tell you where it isn't." 

Sam took one look at his friend's sulking expression and lack of Steve around him and quickly deduced the reason for his sullenness. "You want to talk?" 

"You have time?" 

"What do you mean? Of course I do. My bedtime isn't that early." 

"No, I mean, Natasha didn't ask you for an extra rehearsal?" 

"No. We've done that routine a thousand times. The plan was to rest and be ready for tomorrow. But I can't pass up a Friday night in Manhattan so here I am." 

Bucky clenched his jaw. "Right." 

Sam playfully punched the other man's shoulder. "You want to join me? You look like you could use a few shots and I know some rowdy places uptown where the music's loud and booze is cheap." 

Bucky thought for a moment, debating if he should wallow alone or enjoy Sam's company. Eventually he smirked and nodded his head towards the sprawling city. "Lead the way, Wilson." 

**************** 

Part Two 

New York City- The Next Day 

"Shit." Bucky put his hand to his forehead and squinted against what had to be the brightest sunshine he had ever encountered. He reached over to see if Steve was awake but the spot next to him on the bed was empty. His eyes opened and to his surprise he wasn't in his room at all. 

"Morning handsome." The sound of Sam's voice made him sit up sharply. 

"Sam?" Bucky's voice was hoarse and heavy with sleep and the taste of tobacco and cheap liquor. 

"Don't worry, I already started the coffee. I had a feeling you were going to need a little something to help you wake up this morning." 

Bucky's eyes darted around the room as he tried to piece together the night. He remembered the start of the evening but not much after the fifth or sixth drink. He was struck with an alarming thought. "Sam... did we...?" He couldn't bring himself to finish the question. 

Sam just laughed at him as he poured the warm, caffeinated beverage in a mug and handed it to his friend. "No, Buck. You were pretty upset still when we got home. You couldn't decide if you wanted to fight or fuck. But I told you to lay down for a moment. I went out for a smoke and by the time I came inside you were already fast asleep." Bucky looked at him, a little incredulous, as he took the mug from Sam. "Don't worry. You still have your pants on and I slept in that chair over there." 

Bucky peeked under the blankets and confirmed, he was in fact, still clothed below the waist. He sighed in relief. "Steve." He started to get up. "He'll be worried." 

Sam shrugged. "Sure... go ahead and take that mug with you. I'm sure I'll get it back when-" but Bucky had already left and closed the door. 

 

Bucky stumbled to the room he and Steve shared and noticed a rather disheveled looking Clint sitting in the corridor. "Barton?" He called out to him. "You look like how I feel." 

Clint looked up at him. "You look pretty terrible yourself. Rough night?" 

"Drank too much. You?" 

"Drank too much. Nat never came back last night. I don't know where she was." 

Bucky felt his stomach drop. He looked over at the door to his room. He turned the knob and it was locked. His jaw clenched and he knocked. "Steve? Steve, it's Bucky." He heard some rustling around and the sound of footsteps approaching. The door was unlocked and opened. Natasha slunk out, her shoes in her hand, and snaked by Bucky. 

"Nat?" Clint looked up at her, utterly crestfallen. "That's where you were all night?" 

"We were rehearsing." She said coldly. "That is all. I grew tired and Steve generously offered me his bed." 

"What else did he generously offer you?" Bucky snarled at her, wrapping his fingers around her arm. 

"You were too tired to walk down the hallway to our room?" Clint's voice cracked out. His face looked pained. 

"It was almost 2 in the morning." Natasha explained, seemingly unruffled. "I did not want to wake you." 

"I was up all night, waiting for you!" Clint got to his feet and began walking menacingly towards her. 

"Calm down Clint." Steve's deep, rich voice could be heard coming to the door. "Let her go, Buck." Bucky released his grip on Natasha and turned to the other man. The hurt in his eyes threatened to make Steve weep. Steve's clear blue gaze was unwavering as he pleaded. "You have to believe me, Buck. Nothing happened." 

Bucky barely registered the click of Clint and Natasha's door as it closed behind them. "I'm sorry Steve. I don't believe you." 

Steve hung his head. He reached out and lightly traced his fingertips over Bucky's forearm. "Bucky... you should know me." Bucky pulled his arm back so fast Sam's mug of coffee fell and broke on the floor. "Fine." Steve furrowed his brow, starting to get angry. "And just where were you?" 

"I was with Sam." 

"Oh really?" 

"Not like that. We just got some drinks. I passed out." 

"Where?" 

"In his bed." 

Steve huffed and turned his back to him. "And yet, you're mad at me?" 

"You know Sam is just a friend." 

"Yeah- with a smile like sunshine, right?" 

"Oh, come on, Steve!" 

"I'm not the one up late drinking with another man all night." 

"No, you were just sharing your bed with some beautiful Russian ballerina who's already slept with half of us!" 

"US?" 

"Oh fuck!" Bucky raked his hands through his hair. "Fuck you. I'm getting ready in my dressing room. Have a good show." 

Steve watched him storm down the corridor and leaned against the doorframe, shutting his eyes. "Shit..." 

****************** 

"Ladies and Gentleman! Children of all ages! Connoisseurs of strength, agility, and derring-do! Aficionados of death-defying stunts and the curiosities of exotic lands! I promise you a night of unparalleled excitement and awe! This will be a show the likes of which you have never witnessed before! Now without any further ado, may I present to you the first of many jaw-dropping acts. We have not one but two strong men who will effortlessly lift things that no mortal man should be able to carry. My dear audience- be enthralled at the Thunder God of Norse Mythology, Thor! And our very own, very unique Incredible Hulk!" Tony stepped outside of the spotlight as the two muscular men entered the ring. As they performed, they wowed those in attendance by picking up increasingly heavy objects as if they were gathering mere toys. As they neared the finale, where they would bring up members of the audience and have them sit on a bench that they would then effortlessly lift over their heads, Tony scanned the performers who were waiting in the wings. 

"Where's Barton? And Rogers? Don't they know it's show time?" 

 

Bucky remained stoic. "Haven't seen either one of them since this morning." 

"I am sure Clint is just waxing his bow." Natasha said, trying to be helpful. 

"Yeah, now that you're doing that for someone else." Bucky said under his breath. Sam put a hand on Bucky's shoulder to try to calm him. Natasha pretended like she didn't hear. 

"Well, he better show up soon because he and you are on third tonight." He nodded to Bucky. "And I didn't pay Hope a dollar to sew all those extra sequins on Wanda's outfit for nothing." 

A roar erupted from the crowd and Tony knew that was his cue that Thor and Hulk had finished their performance. The two of them jogged past the ringmaster, sweaty and huffing for breath. Tony strutted back to the center ring and bellowed his next introduction. 

"Yes! Another round of applause for those mighty muscle men!!" He waited for the clapping to die down. "Oh, don't put those hands in your lap yet. Our next act is a wonder from the other side of the world. An African oddity with the unique ability to talk to the most fearsome and ferocious animals. Oh sure- you have seen a lion tamer before but none so remarkable as this, I guarantee you. While other, lesser men need whips and sticks to get their animals to obey, our own King of the Jungle commands these wild predators with only his voice and regal presence. These beasts respect him; you will love him. Please welcome the whisperer to the most dangerous dwellers of the wilderness, T'Challa!" 

Sam watched as T'Challa made his way in front of the crowd, his walk slow but confident. His only words in a language no one but the big cats he performed with understood. 

"That is quite an outfit." Bucky smirked looking from the man onstage to the one admiring him. 

"It's traditional." Sam tried to be matter-of-fact about it. 

"It's... small. Revealing." His smile continued to grow as he could feel Sam grow agitated. 

"Well, not all of us can get away with some bodypaint and plain black pants." He responded, nodding to Bucky's rather simple costume. 

"True. Your getup is also quite... diaphanous." Bucky let his eyes travel down Sam's body. His friend's tight silver and red pants left little to the imagination. His gaze lingered below the other man's waist and Sam's excitement for T'Challa's performance was evident. "Is that going to affect your balance on the tightrope?" 

Sam turned away not wanting the other man to see his cheeks flush with embarrassment. "I hate you." Bucky snorted a laugh. 

"Feeling better?" 

Clint's voice took Bucky by surprise. He shrugged, "Not really. You?" 

"Not really. But the show must go on, right?" 

"That's what they say." 

Natasha stayed staring straight ahead doing her best to ignore the two of them. 

"You got the new stuff Stark wanted ready to go?" 

"Of course." Clint smiled at him. "I'm not worried. I never miss. The question is, is Wanda ready?" He looked over his shoulder and saw her pacing behind them, fiddling with the rings on her fingers. 

She looked at the two of them and her hesitation was palpable. "This is way more than I signed up for. Please be careful." 

"It's going to be fine." Clint reached out his hand and when she took it he squeezed it softly. "I would never hurt you." This did little to quell her fear but she nodded anyway. 

At that moment, one of T'Challa's panthers roared so loud the whole tent shook. Clint, Bucky, and Wanda knew that was their cue to get into their positions. As the big cat tamer took his final bow, his cages were whisked away, revealing Wanda standing in the center of the ring. She displayed the various targets, pyramids of bottles, and stacks of cards that Clint and Bucky would take turns trying to hit. Clint with his arrows and Bucky wielding knives and daggers of all different sizes. 

One by one all their marks were hit in increasingly breathtaking ways. Clint dangling upside down from one of the high wire turrets. Bucky in the middle of the crowd, his knife practically skimming the hairs off an audience member's head. Then, when the last object was felled, Bucky's knife splitting one of Clint's arrows in two, all the lights were extinguished. A single spotlight flared on, revealing Wanda centerstage. Atop her head sat a single, very small tangerine. She appeared terrified and the crowd went silent. Then, almost ominously, you could hear footsteps treading the wooden steps to the top of the tent. There stood Clint at the very last row of seats, his arrow drawn so far back it threatened to hit the canvas that surrounded them. Everyone wondered how he could possibly find such a small object from so very far away, all without hitting the obviously scared girl in the center ring. Bucky looked on and noticed Clint's arm shaking much like it did the night before. Bucky had serious doubts about his accuracy this evening. Surely his mental state, lack of sleep, little practice, and broken heart would make this difficult if not impossible, even for the man who called himself Hawkeye. 

Bucky held his breath with the rest of the crowd as the arrow was released. Almost immediately he sensed something was amiss. The trajectory was all wrong. It was tracking lower than it should be. Without thinking and with no hesitation, Bucky reached for the small knife strapped to his thigh and flung it into the path of Clint's arrow. It intercepted it, cleaving it in two pieces that dropped by Wanda's feet. She let out her breath with a cry and crumpled to her knees. The crowd seemed confused at first then started applauding as a group they decided it was an intentional part of the act. Clint ran down and helped her stand. Bucky soon joined them and they bowed to the swelling ovation. 

They walked into the wings and directly into Tony Stark's fury. His eyes darted from Clint to Bucky and back again. "Will either one of you tell me just what the FUCK that was about? Talk about a horrible ending to that set. You set these people up to watch the Mona Lisa being created and instead show them a 5-yr-old's finger painting!" 

"A horrible ending would be watching a young woman get her stomach split open by an arrow flying faster than a bullet." Bucky said gruffly. 

Tony focused his vitriol on the knife-thrower. "This is all your fault. This night was shaping up to be legendary and you fucking ruined it. You better hope your boyfriend and his cohorts put on a hell of a performance or those people out there are going be demanding their money back. And do you know where those refunds are going to be coming from? Not my wallet. Yours." 

"Judging by that applause I would say they seem pretty happy." He turned his back and started walking away. 

"You know what? That's it. Get out of here, you're fired. You were always the least interesting thing in this show anyway and now that you're an unpredictable liability, I don't want you around. Nobody comes to the circus just to see some sullen brute throw utensils around. Get your things and LEAVE." 

Steve appeared next to his partners, Sam and Nat. "If he leaves, I leave." 

"I don't think so, Rogers. You three are the main event. The top billing on every poster. Without you there's no Stark Circus Spectacular." 

"I will not perform without Steve." Natasha's voice was soft but resolute. "He is the only man I trust." 

Tony appeared wounded and Sam shrugged his shoulders. "As much as I am undeniably the star of the show, I can't really do this alone. If they leave, I leave." 

"If Sam leaves the show, I do not wish to stay." T'Challa stepped forward. 

"Really?" Sam sported a barely-contained smile. The Wakandan nodded. 

"Jesus- what is this a mutiny? On our biggest night?" Tony threw his hands up in defeat. "Fine. The caveman finishes these New York shows and then I work on restructuring this whole cast." He started walking away. He stopped midstride and turned back to them. "Not all of you will invited back." 

"He's gonna lose a lot of people." Sam muttered. 

"Probably." Bucky seemed unconcerned. 

"Tony seems like the kind of guy who will be fine though." Steve also did not appear troubled. 

"What about us?" Bucky turned to his boyfriend. 

Steve thought for a moment. "Maybe it's time we did something different too." 

"You have anything in mind?" 

Steve shrugged. "They started building a bridge over the East River that's supposed to connect Manhattan to Brooklyn. Could be good, steady work for a few years." 

"Years?" 

"Yeah..." Steve started to blush. "I've been thinking about settling down." 

Bucky smirked. "Is that so?" 

Steve gave him a little smile. "We could get a little place. Have a home. Together." 

"I'd like that." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah... but." 

"But what?" 

"But... I think the audience is about to riot if they don't get their acrobatic act." 

Steve's eyes twinkled. "Right. Guess I gotta go." 

"Show must go on, Cap." Steve gave him a small salute. "I'll be waiting..." Steve disappeared into the tent with Sam and Nat. "… my love."


End file.
